


White Noise

by spiritualmachines



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Language, M/M, Male Slash, One Shot, Oral Sex, POV First Person, Sexual Content, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2019-05-24 09:57:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritualmachines/pseuds/spiritualmachines
Summary: Excerpt:“I’m home now. Isn’t that what matters?”Prompt: FrostPhoto:Click





	White Noise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boomersoonerash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomersoonerash/gifts).



> *This story is from Max's POV.

Ever since I was a boy, I had been hyper-aware of sounds. More than once, I’d gotten in trouble for gagging at the dinner table, unable to handle my father’s inability to chew with his mouth closed. People popping gum, chewing celery, or smacking their lips drove me further to the brink of insanity.

I’d learned to cope over the years, but I still employed the assistance of white noise to help me drift off to sleep. If left alone in a room for too long, the sounds around me became too much to bear—culminating to the point where I wanted to scream just to have a sense of peace in my crowded head.

When I first met him, he struck me as the type of person I typically tried to avoid. He was loud, obnoxious, and stubborn to a fault. He purposely chewed with his mouth open to get a rise out of me and complained that he didn’t like the white noise machine. Normally, those traits alone would have sent me running for the hills, but for some reason, they made him all the more appealing to me. I’d ended a shocking number of past relationships based on my sensitivity to noise, but believe it or not, what I loved most about him were all of the glorious sounds he made. 

The rhythm of his soft breathing.

The echo of a moan.

The cadence of my name as it flowed off of his perfect lips.

The ring of his laughter as his smile lit up a room.

All of the everyday sounds that I had hated as a child were replaced with sounds I loved. Sounds I grew to associate with our relationship and a life we had built together, piece by piece until it was something that we both could settle into. A little bit of him and a little bit of me, woven together like patches on a quilt to create a portrait of _us_.

The ticking of the clock.

The hum of the dishwasher.

The rattle of the furnace as the heat kicked on.

The cold winter wind whistling through the panes of glass.

It was almost as if I could hear the frost forming on the window outside just the same as it was settling into my heart. I could hear everything, but I couldn’t hear him. I couldn’t hear him because he wasn’t there. 

I’d woken up alone.

It wasn’t the first time Zac had stayed out longer than he’d planned. Things had been strained between us for several weeks now, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to “grab drinks with his brother” after work instead of coming home to me the way he used to. But it was the first time since we moved in together that he didn’t come home at _all_.

The coffee was warm as it coated my throat, filling me with something other than dread, but that warmth didn’t quite reach my heart. I set the cup down on the table while staring blankly down at the book I had yet to actually read a word of. My eyes couldn’t focus long enough to make sense of anything on the page, and I gave up trying when a series of new sounds filtered into my ears.

The harsh slamming of a car door.

The soft crunch of sneakers on freshly fallen snow.

The cursing that accompanied the clatter of keys falling to the floor. 

Zac was home.

I closed the book, placing it beside the growing pile of schoolwork I’d barely made a dent in. Graduate school had been my top priority once upon a time, but when Zac waltzed into my life six months ago, he’d taken almost immediate precedence over everything. I used to spend my free time dreaming about my future career, but now I dreamed about him. I drank more, I smoked more, and I definitely had more sex—and maybe some people would have perceived him as a negative influence. Maybe I should have been ashamed to look back on the way I’d allowed my grades to slip, not to mention all of the friendships I had let fall to the wayside. But love is blind in more ways than one, and I was so wrapped up in him that I didn’t give much thought to the world around me as long as he was by my side.

I hated that as he came into view, my heartbeat escalated, betraying the hurt I felt. Was he even aware of how much he affected me? Doubtful. If he was, wouldn't he care more about leaving me alone so often?

"I’m glad you remembered where you live. I was afraid you had amnesia, since you seem to have forgotten how to text or answer phone calls," I remarked, taking a slow sip of coffee. 

As he approached me, he raked a hand through his hair, pushing the long strands out of his eyes and letting me see him. God, he was gorgeous, even when he hadn’t showered or slept in days. In fact, I dared to believe that not showering or sleeping served to make him even more beautiful somehow. He looked tired, and he didn’t meet my gaze even as he leaned down to kiss me.

“Sorry,” he replied. “I lost track of time, and then my phone died. I was too drunk to drive home, so I just crashed at Tay’s.”

My sense of smell wasn’t nearly as sharp as my hearing, yet as he moved away, all I could notice was that he didn't smell like Zac at all. He smelled of sweat, incense, and berries… and dare I say it, of _sex_. A heady mixture that made my gut sick.

Confusion swirled through me as I watched him go through the motions of pouring a bowl of cereal. 

"Taylor could have brought you home. Or he could have called me. Or you could have used his phone to call me. You know I would have picked you up,” I said.

“It’s really not a big deal, Max.” There was exasperation in his voice as he lowered himself into the chair beside me. “You were studying all night, weren’t you? Plus, it was really late by the time we left the bar, and it just wouldn’t have made sense for you to drive all the way into the city to get me. Anyway, I’m home now. Isn’t that what matters?”

Once again, the unmistakable scent of betrayal infiltrated my senses as he shoveled a bite of Froot Loops into his mouth. Zac had been a noisy eater for as long as I’d known him, and I loved him so damn much that I found even his bad habits endearing. But suddenly, the rhythmic crunching of the overly sugary morsels being smashed between his teeth was too much, and I cringed, a wave of nausea washing over me.

"Yeah, I guess," I rasped, standing so that I could put some distance between us before I got sick. 

“Where’re you going?” he asked with his mouth full.

"Nowhere. I'm always right here waiting for you these days, remember?”

My tone was harsher than I’d intended, but I couldn't pretend that everything was fine or that his actions hadn’t hurt me. I had never been a very good actor when it came to concealing my true emotions. 

Moving to the window seat in the living room, I curled my tall body against the cushions and rested my forehead against the cool pane of glass. The frost had painted intricate patterns across the window, and I stretched my fingers out to trace one set in particular as I tried to realign my thoughts. 

Maybe Zac was right. I had a lot on my plate with work and school; I was stressed enough as it was without throwing our relationship into the mix. Maybe his failure to come home or contact me the night before wasn’t a big deal, and I was blowing things out of proportion, creating issues that weren’t really there. Maybe I just needed to loosen up and relax. 

“Hey, Zac?” I spoke up without looking away from the window.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have any more of that weed?”

*** * * * ***

Wet, wavy strands of Zac’s hair slipped through my fingers as my head fell back against the bathroom mirror, his hot mouth enveloping my length.

Sharing a joint had helped to relax my nerves, but had done little to mask the offensive scent clinging to the man I loved. So, when Zac had suggested I join him in the shower, I had jumped at the chance to wash the reminder of a night spent alone down the drain. 

And just like that, he looked, tasted, sounded, smelled, and felt like my Zac again. Cleaning each other up in the shower had been an effective form of foreplay. It was, in fact, so effective that we didn’t even make it out of the bathroom before he was pressing me against the sink in desperation. 

"I need you," I gasped out, tugging harder on his hair. 

A sharp knocking at the door surprised us both, and I cried out as Zac’s teeth grazed the sensitive head of my dick. 

“Shit! Sorry,” Zac said, glancing up at me rather sheepishly. 

“It’s okay.”

Truth be told, I would happily take a little bit of pain every now and then if it meant I could watch those plump, perfect lips work their magic.

Meanwhile, the knocking continued, becoming even louder and more persistent. 

“Guess I’d better get that,” he said reluctantly.

I couldn't help but frown when he pulled away from my aching erection, wrapped a towel around his waist and moved toward answering the door.

Covering my own body with a towel, I took several deep breaths to try and cool off so I could go see what was going on. Zac hadn't returned as quickly as I would have liked, and I could hear hushed voices drifting down the hall. 

Turning the corner, I spotted Zac talking to the mystery visitor—who was none other than his brother, Taylor. As I watched them, I felt myself tensing up despite myself. It wasn’t that I hated Taylor… no, I would have to _know_ him in order to hate him, and Zac seemed set on keeping us apart. His close relationship with Taylor had been a point of contention between us on more than one occasion. Admittedly, I was a little jealous of all the time Taylor spent with him (time he should have been spending with me), but I was mostly upset because Zac didn’t feel the need to include me in various important aspects of his life.

We came from different worlds. I was an only child, and my parents had moved to Scotland after they retired and barely cared enough to send me a postcard. Zac, on the other hand, was one of seven kids, and his family members all still lived in the relative area and saw each other regularly. He, Taylor, and his oldest brother Isaac even worked together in a branch of their father’s business. 

While Zac complained about coming from such a big family, I secretly envied him, because he had a built-in network of love and support that was totally foreign to me. I’d voiced my desire to meet his folks as well as his siblings, but Zac always came up with an excuse to thwart my efforts. I eventually let it slide, reminding myself that I needed to pick my battles and that Zac would introduce me to them when the time was right.

But I was starting to think that when it came to meeting his family, there would _never_ be a right time. 

As Taylor’s eyes shifted toward me, I was extremely aware of the fact that, like Zac, I was only wearing a towel. Still, I had no idea why Taylor was there and I needed to make it clear that whatever he wanted, Zac wasn’t going anywhere. 

“Hey.” I took a few steps closer, holding the towel tightly around my torso to avoid exposing myself. “Is everything okay?” 

I slid up beside Zac, running my hand along the expanse of his back slowly and protectively. It seemed silly to be territorial around his own brother, but I needed Taylor to know that even if he got to see Zac more than I did, he was mine.

“Everything’s just peachy,” Taylor replied, his blue eyes locking me into a stare that felt much too invasive considering we hadn’t even properly met. 

“I left my phone at Taylor’s house,” Zac explained, motioning to the small device in his hand. “He brought it back so I wouldn’t have an excuse to be disconnected from the world.”

“Well, isn’t that nice? Zac told me it died, so it probably needs to sit on the charger for awhile,” I responded, vaguely aware that I was rambling as I tended to do in awkward social situations. After taking in a breath, I decided to introduce myself, since it was clear that Zac wasn’t going to. “I’m Max. It’s great to finally meet you.”

I extended my hand to Taylor, keeping the other firmly on Zac’s lower back.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” he replied.

He gave my hand a little squeeze before letting it go, holding my gaze all the while. Taylor’s eyes were intense; they were almost _too_ intense. Something about him made me want to keep staring and take off running for the hills at the same time. 

“Thanks, Tay. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Zac said pointedly.

He was doing what he did best: trying to evade the situation he was standing smack dab in the middle of. 

“Is that coffee I smell?” Taylor said, ignoring Zac and moving further into our apartment. “It started snowing like hell on the way over here. I’m going to need something to warm me up. Plus, I should wait for it to let up before I head back to the city.”

“You—you’re staying?” Zac stuttered, clearly thrown off of his game. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him this frazzled, but then again, I’d never seen him around his brother before. “Don’t you have some work to finish up? I can make you a to-go cup…”

“Yes, I’m staying. Did you not just hear me say there’s a blizzard in the making out there? Work can wait.” Taylor paused then, placing his hands on his hips as he surveyed the photographs that lined the wall—a series of black-and-white snapshots I’d taken of Zac last fall. When he turned back toward us, there was a strange smile on his face. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. You and your boyfriend can give me the grand tour, and then we can roast marshmallows over the stove.”

With how uneasy Taylor made me and how weird Zac was acting, the last thing I wanted to do was play host. The way the word ‘boyfriend’ rolled off his tongue made my skin crawl. Maybe that was the real reason Zac hadn’t introduced us; maybe Taylor didn’t approve of me as a suitable mate for his brother.

Still, one glance out the window confirmed that it had, in fact, started to storm something fierce and there was no point in sending Taylor out in it. 

“Coffee cups are in the cabinet to the left of the microwave. There’s creamer in the fridge and sugar on the counter. Please, help yourself,” I said, taking Zac’s hand and tugging him toward the bedroom. “Come on, let’s go get dressed.”

As we retreated down the hall, I could hear the telltale opening and closing of cabinets and drawers, punctuated by the tinny clang of utensils. Zac remained silent as he trailed behind me, but his breathing was loud and labored, and his hand was noticeably clammy.

All I wanted to do was sleep the rest of the day away and hope that things would get better tomorrow, but the universe had other plans for me. 

*** * * * ***

The next several hours passed by slowly, but not nearly as painfully as I’d anticipated. Zac had insisted upon smoking another joint once we’d thrown some clothes on and reunited with Taylor in the living room, and one joint led to another until we were all feeling pretty good. Zac in particular was riding high, as his days of not sleeping coupled with the soporific side effects of the pot had eventually caught up with him.

Normally, the sight of him sprawled out on the couch fast asleep would have been endearing, but in that moment, Zac’s lack of consciousness meant that I was left alone with Taylor and his unnerving stare. In order to distract myself from it, I retrieved a blanket and proceeded to cover Zac’s sleeping form with it.

“Sorry if I interrupted something when I showed up. You seemed… indisposed,” Taylor said, breaking the silence as I leaned down to kiss Zac softly.

“No worries,” I replied.

Before I could so much as blink, Taylor was by my side, the scent of something stale yet sweet filling my senses as he brushed a few errant locks of hair away from Zac’s forehead. 

Growing up an only child meant that I had no real point of reference for how siblings acted around one another. My mom had a brother and my dad had three sisters, but they were all so scattered and estranged that I never really had a chance to observe how they interacted. And even if I had, my family was far from touchy-feely. As a result, I tended to shy away from PDAs and often recoiled from hugs as if they might cause bodily harm. I’d been brought up in a world of sterile academia, where intelligence and respect were more coveted than love and affection.

Zac had slowly opened me up to the world of physical affection. He taught me how good and how _right_ it could feel to show someone that you love them through touch. I’d become more open thanks to him, as evidenced by my willingness to kiss him with his brother in the room. However, I was still taken aback by the blatant show of love Taylor displayed toward his sleeping brother.

“He hasn’t been sleeping well lately,” I said, my eyes on Taylor’s hand.

“Is that so?” he murmured.

If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought there was a hint of mischief in his tone as he leaned down and touched his lips to Zac’s slightly stubbled jaw. 

I had only known Taylor for a couple of hours and yet he had worked his way under my skin. Watching the way he kissed Zac so casually, so naturally, made me tense up and place my hand protectively on Zac’s hip. How close _were_ they?

“It would be best to just let him alone to rest,” I responded, subtly hinting that I wanted him to get the hell away.

“You’re the boss,” Taylor said, trailing his index finger down Zac’s cheek before finally dropping his hand back to his side.

Placing one final kiss against Zac’s lips myself, I tucked the blanket around him more before shifting back to my original position on the couch. 

A quick glance out the window showed that the snow wasn’t done wreaking havoc on the world just yet, which meant I was stuck there with Taylor, his gaze once again making me want to climb out of my skin. 

“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “It was nice of you to drive all the way out here. You’re the first family member to visit since we moved in, you know.”

“I know,” he replied in that same disconcerting tone, one that implied he was getting a kick out of a joke I wasn’t in on. “Thanks for letting me crash the party. I know that my baby brother can go a day without his phone, but I wanted to finally see this place with my own eyes. I was beginning to think he’d made it all up.”

The more Taylor talked, the more unsettled I was starting to feel. Did his family know about me at all, or did they think that he lived here alone? What had he told them? 

I normally wasn’t the paranoid type, but the combination of Zac not coming home the previous night as well as the secrets dancing behind Taylor’s piercing blue eyes were making my nausea return to the surface. 

“Made what up?” I asked, hating how weak I sounded.

“This house. This view. _You_.”

"Why would Zac make me up?" I asked, the confusion evident in my voice. "Why would he lie about any of this?”

At least his words cleared one thing up: His family knew about me; they just didn't think I was real. 

Admiring his sleeping form, I gently ran my hand over his calf muscle through the blanket. I loved him so much—more than I think he even realized. The thought that someone could believe this beautiful man would have to make up love was a tragedy. 

“I won’t go into detail, but Zac has a history of keeping his personal life separate from his family. You’ve probably noticed that he’s very private—and, well, he’s like that with us as well. With _me_ in particular.”

Taylor trailed off then, diverting his gaze to the window, and for the first time all day, I felt as if he had let his guard down and was speaking without pretense. 

“He spends so much time with you so I figured he told you everything. I had no idea that he was being just as private with you as he is with me,” I said softly, unable to take my eyes off Zac. 

It was a risky move to voice my thoughts like that. After all, what if Zac hadn’t been with Taylor during all of those late nights after work? What if he merely used that as a cover-up and was actually spending time with someone else? What if he really was cheating on me like I feared?

“I love the boy to death, but sometimes he’s a mystery,” Taylor spoke wistfully, his eyes still trained on the window. “Plus, nobody tells each other _everything_.”

“I really love him, too,” I echoed quietly, the confession tumbling past my lips before I could stop it.

My love for Zac had stopped me from pushing him into being more open with me. Honestly, I was perfectly fine with the way things had been between us until he’d started staying out later and later. I wasn’t ready to give up on him, though. 

Raising my eyes, I studied Taylor carefully in the silence, trying to figure out what was going on in his head. But it was no use—he was just as much of a mystery as Zac was, if not more. One second, he was cocksure in a way that was borderline threatening, and the next, he was thoughtful and serene.

“I know we don’t know each other, and you don’t owe me anything,” I began, my voice slightly shaking. “But please, if you can, try to make sure he comes home every night? That’s all I ask. He doesn’t think it’s a big deal, but it’s a big deal to me.”

When Taylor finally pried his eyes away from the window and fixed them on me, I was shocked to find not only compassion in their depths, but a much deeper emotion, one I could relate to all too well. We hadn’t exchanged many words at all, but we seemed to have reached a mutual understanding. 

Then he nodded, dragged a hand through his stylishly messy hair, and rose to his feet. 

“Well, it’s been a blast, but I need to hit the road.”

Even though it hadn’t yet stopped snowing Taylor moved toward the door like a man with a purpose. I followed him out of habit, as he was our guest and seeing him to the door was the right thing to do. And admittedly, I still wasn’t entirely sure what to make of our odd visit.

“What about the snow?” I asked, my mind still reeling from the weed and conversation. “Aren’t you worried about making it home?”

Taylor stopped in his tracks and placed a hand on my shoulder, his fingertips searing my skin like they were made of fire.

“Max, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that there’s no use worrying about things you can’t control. If the snow is falling, I’m gonna let it fall. But I’m not gonna let it stop me from getting where I need to go.”

Just like that, Taylor had morphed back into an enigma that I wasn't even going to attempt to understand. Instead, I leaned to open the door for him as the sweet smell once again flooded my senses. When our eyes met once more, I merely smiled. 

"It really was great to meet you,” I said candidly. “Be safe.“

“Oh, I’m _always_ safe,” he replied with a wink, before turning on his heel and making his way down the snow-covered driveway. 

As the snowflakes fell from the sky, the white-dusted tree branches swaying lightly in the wind, I watched him walk away before stepping back into the house, where I was once again alone with Zac. 

Shutting the door behind me, I closed my eyes and focused on the sounds all around me. 

The ticking of the clock in the kitchen. 

The wind whirring against the window pane. 

The rhythmic sound of Zac’s breathing as he slept soundly on the couch. 

_Home._

I moved across the room and nestled in close to Zac, wrapping my arms around his warm body and relaxing against him. I was so comfortable, I started to drift off myself when I felt him begin to stir. Loosening my grip on his waist, I drew away ever so slightly to see if he was awake.

“Max?” he croaked out hoarsely, confirming that he was indeed among the living.

“Yeah, babe?” 

“I had this very vivid dream just now. Tay was here, and we were sitting around, eating chips and smoking, just talking and laughing and shooting the shit. It was really nice,” he said around a contented sigh, glancing around as if in search of his brother before settling his eyes on me.

“That sounds nice,” I agreed, smoothing down his tousled hair and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. 

Zac practically purred at the attention, lapping it up like a cat would a bowl of milk. Then he reached out and ran his fingers down my arm before pressing his lips firmly to mine. It may have been a practiced dance, but it was one I would never grow tired of rehearsing.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he murmured against my mouth. 

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” I assured him with a grin.


End file.
